A moment later, the heavy steps and labored breathing of her Lover rounded the corner behind them, and came to a halt before the pathetic scene.
Prisma stood silent and stoic at the very end, gazing down with a cold, calculated look at the heap of bruises on the floor. Star was slumped against the wall, sitting in what was blood but now appeared more like black tar, which dripped slowly and oozed over everything much more viscously than the blood ever had. And the light from the apocalyptic sunset had turned from a murderous orange to a desperate blue, graying out the entire world.
Her Lover stared for a moment, before straightening up from his brutish slouch and dropping his lead pipe. Everything seemed much clearer now, like the world had suddenly put a caption to the picture of his life. And the scene continued to unfold.
“So where do we go from here,” Prisma asked, completely ignoring the presence of Star’s opponent.
“I was going to ask you the same thing…” She didn’t have much of an explanation. She didn’t have much of an excuse. What she’d really wanted was for him to make some earth-shattering revelation, some incredible self-discovery, in which they fell madly in love and were somehow sent back home.
An eternity of dreams went through her quickly dissolving mind. Everything she’d ever wanted, ever thought of achieving in her life, it was all running out like sand in an hourglass. Much like…
“Prisma!” She launched at the hem of his pants, and caught nothing but smoke. He looked down to see his body disintegrating, wavering for a moment, and dissipating in the grayish air.
“Oh… I guess this is how it is,” he muttered, and she stood frantically, attempting to hold him here with her. Allowing herself this last privilege of indulgence, Star reached a shaking hand up into his still-existent hair, and looked into his eyes. They were an earthy green in the light, shifting to a deep brown. They were his eyes again.
“I’ll see you,” he said, enveloped her in his arms, and completely evaporated around her trembling body.
“No… no… no NO NO NO NO!!!! NO!” Star screamed at the top of her lungs and slammed a hand into the wall, splattering black tar all over her hands and face. It was at this moment she felt a hand against her shoulder. She whirled around to face her assailant and ended up caught in another embrace, one which she had no desire to let go of.
“Shhh…. My beautiful Star, it’s going to be okay… Shhh…” Her Lover held her tightly, and ran his hands over her matted hair. He pulled back, looked her in the eyes and said with a sigh, “I’m leaving too.”
Numbly, she glanced down and saw him disappearing in the same manner as Prisma. Star could only nod.
“You’ll be okay, little girl. You’ll find a way out, I know it.” He gave her one kiss on the forehead, a beautiful, completely sincere smile, and vanished in her arms. The mists of the two figures still lingered on her, and in a panic known only in her nightmares and most traumatic moments, Star lost her mind…

-

Spludge……… Spludge……… Spludge…

The tar smooshed under her heavy footsteps, and squelched in the wake of the heavy lead pipe. It dragged behind her through broken glass and gutted drywall, through tar and blood and tears and ephemeral mist from bodies long gone. There was nothing Star hadn’t destroyed, and yet, the entire building was unscathed. Debris everywhere, and not a scar on its surface.
But there were scars. Everywhere, in every inch of her mind, body, and soul, Star was scarred. Broken and hurt and angry and almost inhuman, she wandered and cried and screamed and raged.

And despite all of her rage and wrath, the world continued to spin, continued to turn, as untouched as it had been before it even existed. And there, she was left to learn for herself to grow up, or to die as she was left:  alone.